How do you think, a teacher’s tribe was born,
Unaware we are, nonetheless no martyr we mourn.
She possesses the wonder of ten heads working at a time,
Tending to answer the queries of curious minds, with an attitude as rime.
All of her tribe are experts at doing everything efficiently and ranking as one,
Save some novices, who may be jack of all, master of none.
Her hands reach out to the four extremes of behaviours of her students,
At times eight, to coax and convince pestering parents.
The whole of her dedicates, to the well-being of her students to be rightly led,
By the mercy of the Saviour, on the cross whose heart bled.
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